


Yayo

by mollykaths



Category: Big Hero 6
Genre: Age Difference, Boss/Employee Relationship, GASP I HAVE FANART TO SHARE AS WELL??, Hiro is 21, Hiro is also very bold, Krei is incompetent around his crush and has no game, Krei is like his usual age which is what I assume to be his early forties, Kreihiro, M/M, Sugar Daddy Alistair Krei, Sugar Daddy Kink, i dont fucking know lmao, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 06:51:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3841225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mollykaths/pseuds/mollykaths
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair Krei is growing a little too fond of his new intern.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yayo

**Author's Note:**

> Me: jokes about daddy kinks  
> Me: unironically begins writing about daddy kinks

One, two, three, four.

 

 

Alistair Krei counts the amount of times his intern can spin his chair round and round. The furniture's wheels squeak with each turn.

 

 

“I take it you're satisfied with your new workspace?”

 

 

Most students attending SFIT weep with joy when spring semester comes to an end but Hiro Hamada isn't like most students. He chose to utilize his summer break by accepting an internship at Krei Tech Industries.

 

 

“Sure, its pretty cool,” Hiro remarks, nonchalantly.

 

 

The CEO waits patiently for Hiro to finish testing his hypothesis; just how long can he twirl himself in his chair for until he becomes lightheaded. With an enthusiastic lurch, Hiro's ride comes to a complete stop and he bounces in his seat.

 

 

“Okay, who am I kidding? It's _awesome,”_ Hiro gushes. “The 3D printer? I didn't even know they _made_ those that huge. And every employee has their own portable, handheld 3D printer? Dude—sir, I mean—that's insane.”

 

 

To mask his geeky outburst, Hiro sits up in his seat and folds his hands in his lap, attempting to bid Alistair his most convincing poker face. Alistair sees right through his guise and he chuckles, gazing across the room and appreciating the laboratory's lavish décor. Earlier, he had given his new employee an all access tour of the campus. Jaw slack with awe and eyes wide with astonishment, Hiro fought hard to withhold his excitement in favor of seeming professional.

 

 

“It's pretty impressive, isn't it?”

 

 

“Imagine if I were a millionaire like you. I would never leave my work. Ever. Not if I had to say goodbye to this--”

 

 

He flings his arm dramatically to demonstrate his affliction.

 

 

“Am I going to have to remove you from this building by force come closing time?”

 

 

“No, sir—um, Mr. Krei,” Hiro rushes, shaking his head.

 

 

 

Krei asks, before he departs, “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?”

 

 

“I'm the intern here. _I'm_ supposed to be getting _you_ everything,” Hiro explains. There's a hint of pride in his tone. Hiro knows how truly valuable he is and there's no reason why he shouldn't give himself credit.

 

 

“Smart _and_ funny. I'll leave you to it, then.”

 

 

-

 

It's no secret that Alistair Krei had pined for Hiro—well, Hiro's brain-- ever since SFIT's showcase, last year. In the midst of his idealization Alistair had forgotten just how young Hiro was. The kid revolutionized nanotechnology at twenty years old. Underestimating Hiro's brevity was one of the many mistakes Alistair made that year. It wasn't until _after_ his colleague went insane and tried to murder him that Alistair realized he had a long road of redemption ahead of him.

 

 

It came as quite a shock when Hiro accepted his six week internship opportunity. Shock is a bit of an understatement. Alistair nearly suffered from heart palpitations for various reasons: hadn't this boy rejected him during the showcase? Hadn't Alistair made a big enough idiot out of himself to convince Hiro that above all, he was short-sighted, self-centered and reckless?

 

 

Evidently, the young inventor admired everything Alistair conformed to after the the events that changed his life; _not_ short-sighted in the slightest and wholly forgiving.

 

 

“The job isn't what I'd call _glamorous_ ,” Alistair had described to the student during their interview, “but we could really use someone as gifted as you on our team.”

 

 

Even now, as resides in his office, overlooking the picturesque view of San Fransokyo, Alistair can recall how nervous the boy seemed. You'd think after all the poor kid went through, tackling his first job interview would be the lesser endeavor to rattle Hiro.

 

 

“You'll be testing our products and record everything you think needs improvement. Don't be afraid about being too harsh. We need the criticism,” Alistair explained.

 

 

Gangly legs swung awkwardly as Hiro shifted in his seat. It was....endearing, to say the least. Alistair stifles a smile as flips open his laptop to check his email, reminiscing. The outfit Hiro had worn for the interview was clearly not an ensemble he was used to; black slacks, dressy loafers and a white dress shirt tucked in, maybe a size larger than necessary.

 

 

His hair was combed and neatly parted that day. Though recently, Alistair notices that Hiro chose to keep his hair unkempt. At least he had agreed to wearing the lab coat. Skinny jeans and sneakers weren't exactly within Krei Tech Industry's dress code regulations but there was no use fighting Hiro on this one; the boy saved his life. The least Alistair could do is let him be his messy and animated self.

 

-

 

 

During his lunch break, Alistair unexpectedly catches Hiro out of the corner of his eye. Alistair was heading out to buy a sandwich across the street but Hiro is bent over, fingers pressed against the glass of the vending machine, and Alistair is foolishly stopping in his tracks to survey the intern as he searches for a snack.

 

 

For someone on the lankier side, Hiro was not without some complimentary form. Hiro removed his lab coat for the remainder of the break and Alistair can read every curve and every muscle that arcs unabashedly and unknowingly from his position.

 

 

No one _that_ scrawny has any business donning a backside _that_ defined. Upon realization that he was gaping at his employee in a wholly inappropriate manner, Alistair's face burns with shame. He clears his throat and regains composure at the same time Hiro successfully punches in the code to earn him a bag of gummy bears from the vending machine.

 

 

 

“Oh, hey,” Hiro greets, turning around to rip open plastic bag of goodies. “Mr. Krei. What's up?”

 

 

“Hiro--” Damn, his throat is cracked and drier than a sheet of sandpaper. He tries again. “Hello. I was just on my way to lunch.”

 

 

He watches Hiro shove a handful of candy in his mouth, riddled with envy. What Alistair wouldn't give to be in his twenties again, constantly snacking on carbs and sugar without the possible onset of heart attacks.

 

 

“Oh,” Hiro chirps. “I thought you had people bring you your lunch.”

 

 

“I used to but now I, ah,” Krei falters, folding his hands across the pressed front of his blazer, “recently I decided it would be best not to be so dependent on my employees. The fresh air is nice, too.”

 

 

“If I were you,” Hiro says while chewing on an enormous portion of gummy bears, “I'd jush bosh people around. Thash what boshes do, right? Bosh people.”

 

 

Alistair can't help but laugh. He knows Hiro isn't being serious but the disconnect between his generation and Hiro's is becoming all the more apparent.

 

 

“I think you have a different perception of what my job entails.”

 

 

“You sure you don't want me to pick something up for you?” Hiro asks, swallowing his food. “That's what interns are supposed to do. Exploit me for all I'm worth, I'm just here for the experience.”

 

 

Alistair stops himself from choking on his own breath. Was the double entendre necessary? Was there even a double entendre to be found or was Alistair just thinking with a one track mind? Why on earth was he so flustered to begin with?

 

 

“I'm fine. Thank you, Mr. Hamada.”

 

 

-

 

When he returns from lunch with time to spare, Alistair spots Hiro lounging on an arm chair, slouching (that really can't be good for his spine) and playing a game on his phone. He catches a glimpse of the screen. What on earth was a _Kardashian_? Nonetheless, he figures he may as well extend his gratitude and bring him to dinner. That'd be returning a favor, right? Hiro shad hared his aunt's delicious, homemade croquettes with Alistair when he stopped by Lucky Cat Cafe. Maybe that was a bit of a reach, though? Nonetheless, Alistair pipes up and Hiro glances away from his phone to meet his boss's gaze.

 

 

“Mr. Hamada?”

 

 

 

“You can just call me Hiro, sir,” he replies, raising an eyebrow.

 

 

Unsure of what exactly it is that's washed over him, Alistair prepares himself mentally for what he's about to ask.

 

 

“Would you care to join me for dinner tonight, Hiro?”

 

This is ridiculous. He's had dinners with coworkers since he can remember and it's not as though Hiro is a stranger. They're already _friends_ but his heart thunders against his ribcage as though he's asking the kid out to prom.

 

 

“What kind of dinner?”

 

 

“Just dinner with your boss, a coworker, um, as acquaintances, of course.”

 

 

“Right,” Hiro snorts. Clearly, he's at odds with himself because he doesn't want to appear rude for finding the CEO's discomposure so amusing. Oh, but it must be. Alistair must look like an idiot.

 

 

“Ae you a fan of sushi?”

 

 

“You're asking a Japanese person if they enjoy eating Japanese food?” Hiro teases.

 

 

“That's that does sound silly of me, when you put it that way—”

 

 

“Relax, I'm just messing with you. I'd love sushi.”

 

 

“Wonderful. I'll pick you up at eight. And don't bother with the review. We'll talk about it over dinner.”

 

 

Perfect, now he has a terrible case of clammy hands. He may as well be a teenage boy.

 

-

 

 

If it isn't a date, then why is Alistair constantly checking his cufflinks and readjusting his tie? And for that matter, why does his heart jump up into his throat when he finally reaches the Hamada's residence and he spots Hiro waiting outside Lucky Cat Cafe's entrance?

 

“Um. “

 

Hiro's jaw drops.

 

“You're picking me up in a limo,” He finishes, arms hanging limply by his side.

 

 

“That's not an issue, is it?” Alistair asks, rolling down the window.

 

 

“No, I mean. Dude. _Whoa_.”

 

 

Alistair chuckles and opens the door. When Hiro joins him in the back seat of the limo he gapes at its interior; plush seats, multiple television screens and bottles of wine perched in their cupholders.

 

 

“Whoa,” Hiro repeats. “Um, Mr. Krei, you really didn't have to go out of your way for me.”

 

 

“Nonsense. All of my guests receive this sort of treatment.”

 

 

“I'm just your intern.”

 

 

“Just my intern? Hiro, you're a prodigy _and_ a hero. You saved my life. You saved San Fransokyo. Allow yourself to be spoiled for a night.”

 

 

Between idle chit chat on the drive to the upscale sushi bar, Alistair holds his breath while he processes how Hiro has dressed for their date—no, its not a date. Not a date. Casual evening between friendly acquaintances. His hair is neatly combed—Alistair had no idea that was even possible—and he wore a suit. This time, the suit was much fitting than the one he wore for his interview. His heart sinks a little: was the suit too big on him because it once belonged to his brother? Alistair was aware that Tadashi was taller and well, not nearly as skinny as Hiro. Dwelling on the past is no good, Alistair reminds himself.

 

 

“That's a very nice suit, Hiro.”

 

 

“This? Oh. Thanks. I figured I'd dress up. You probably go out to eat at a lot of fancy places. I assumed—not to sound rude or anything--”

 

 

“No, not at all. You look great.”

 

 

Hiro's face reddens deep enough to match the color of untouched bottles of red wine surrounding them.

 

 

“Thank you, Mr. Krei.”

 

 

-

 

A bottles of sake and a few unagi rolls later, Hiro has loosened up and no longer shows any signs of feeling displaced in a five star setting.

 

 

“Your robot is doing well, I assume?” Alistair chirps. It's a quiet restaurant, reservation only, dim lighting, hushed conversations joined with the occasional clink of dinner plates and wine glasses.

 

 

Hiro giggles into his fist. He's had quite a few servings of warm sake and its effects are growing apparent. Alistair hadn't taken into account that the layout of the sushi bar consists of circular booths; at any moment they could close the gap of space between them. That possibility stirs an anxious flurry in his abdomen.

 

 

“What's so funny?” He asks, setting aside his chopsticks.

 

 

“Nothing its just--” Hiro gulps down another portion of sake.

 

 

“You should be careful,” Alistair advises. He doesn't want the poor thing to get so inebriated he can't walk back to the chauffeur. Hiro ignores him (not much of a surprise, there: he's a legal adult and is of course, of legal drinking age)

 

 

 

“Baymax is fine,” Hiro informs. “It's just kind of funny to hear you ask about him like he's a real person.”

 

 

“He is, in a sense, isn't he? His ability to empathize with humans isn't something most technology hasn't accomplished.”

 

 

Hiro shrugs so hard, his shoulders could fly off his body and says, “In a lot of ways, yeah. He looks out for me. He's not a person but he's a good friend to have around. Kind of like an older brother.”

 

 

By common instinct, Alistair closes his mouth and chews on his bottom lip. “Hiro,” he says, softly.

 

 

“Sorry,” Hiro rushes, “That was too personal. You didn't invite me here to listen to me ramble about my problems.”

 

 

“It's quite alright, Hiro.”

 

 

Alistair scoots closer to his, hoping he can truly convey his sympathy because really, how often has he apologized for everything? Never enough, evidently. He reaches out to place a hand on Hiro's shoulder. Hiro glances up at him and grins sheepishly.

 

 

“Mr. Krei, I'm fine. I swear.”

 

 

“I can't imagine what you've been through, Hiro.”

 

 

Hiro remains quiet for a few moments, softening under the gentle ministrations of Alistair's hand as he squeezes his shoulder, gently.

 

 

 

“Can I ask you something, Hiro?”

 

 

Alistair's intern nods.

 

 

“What made you change your mind about me? When we first met, you wanted nothing to do with Krei Tech Industry. Truth be told, I feel somewhat responsible for everyone's grievances.”

 

 

“ _Truth be told_ , Mr. Krei,” Hiro retorts, the corner of his mouths twitching rather coyly, “I've always thought you were a snobby, corporate shark.”

 

 

“Thank you.”

 

 

“I'm just kidding! Geez, lighten up, dude.”

 

 

Hiro giggles again and trudges himself closer to Alistair's open arm. Is this....is Hiro flirting with him? If he moves any closer, their bodies will make full contact and Alistair isn't sure he's equipped to deal with that right now.

 

 

“You've changed, Mr. Krei. I'm not like--” Hiro stops, not willing to vocalize the name of his brother's murderer. “--I'm not like some people. I can learn to forgive, so I'll give you some credit.”

 

 

 

“I appreciate that. Thank you, Hiro.”

 

 

Suddenly, Hiro slides nearer, no longer leaving any personal space between the two of them. In one fell swoop, he nudges his head around Alistair's outstretched arm to rest on the older man's shoulder.

 

 

“Oh--”

 

 

Oh dear.

 

 

Again, Hiro reaches for his cup of sake. His face is flushed pink, his body warm; inviting, and Alistair can smell Hiro's freshly shampooed hair.

 

 

“Hiro,” Alistair chuckles nervously. “What are you doing?”

 

 

“I'm just getting comfortable,” Hiro explains. “The sake is making me a little woozy. Also, your shoulders are nice and broad. They make good headrests.”

 

 

“I think,” Alistair croaks, reaching for a glass water. His lips are dry and cracked and the cool liquid still isn't enough to soothe him. “You've have too much to drink.”

 

 

“You're a really handsome guy, Mr. Krei,” Hiro titters, readjusting his position, nuzzling his cheek against Alistair's shoulder. Soft skin makes contact with the creaseless fabric of Alistair's expensive and pressed suit. “You never got married?”

 

 

“N-no, I--” Alistair swallows, hard. His heart thrashes wildly against his ribcage. An unpleasant, sticky sweat begins to precipitate in his palms. He still hasn't removed his hand from Hiro's shoulder. Why hasn't he removed his hand from Hiro's shoulder. By now, he must have left a damp spot of moisture on Hiro's jacket and that can't be appealing.

 

 

“That's insane! I figured girls would be all over you because you're rich, handsome, and super smart. Kinda like Tony Stark.”

 

 

Alistair's laugh is dry and humorless. “I wouldn't quite put myself on the same level as Tony Stark.”

 

 

“ _I_ would,” Hiro singsongs. It's unclear whether or not Hiro's disposition right now is stemming from naive curiosity or something far more mischievous. Alistair fears it might be the latter. Carefully, Hiro turns to face Alistair and big brown eyes bore into his own.

 

 

“I'm-- I'm not so sure this sort of proximity is appropriate between a CEO and his subordinate,” Alistair stammers, refusing to concentrate on how _long_ the young man's eyelashes are. Long, full, dark lashes and hooded, doe eyes.

 

 

“It's also inappropriate if a CEO drools over his younger intern. Just saying. I know you were checking me out earlier. At the vending machine.”

 

 

 

Oh no.

 

 

Oh no, oh no, oh no.

 

 

Right as Hiro leans into to press a chaste kiss to Alistair's cheek, the older gentleman jerks away, abruptly, shaking the smaller body from his grasp. Immediate guilt washes over him when Hiro bids him a crestfallen expression.

 

“Please, don't be upset. It's not—you haven't done anything wrong. I just don't take advantage of young men or—ah, women, or anyone. Not while they're drunk.”

 

 

Hiro chews on his lower lip, and he tears his gaze away, ashamed.

 

 

“I do enjoy your company, Hiro. Very much so. Don't take it the wrong way. You're wonderful to be around.”

 

 

The boy perks up.

 

 

“Really?”

 

 

“Absolutely. You're a bright young man. It'd be wrong of me to accept your advances while you're intoxicated.”

 

 

“I understand,” Hiro sighs. “I just really wanted to kiss you. That's all.”

 

 

“Maybe now isn't a good time for that. How about I order you some mochi instead?”

 

 

Nearly out of the blue, Hiro lurches forward, racked with glee. It startles Alistair and he jumps from the outburst.

 

 

“I love mochi!” Hiro exclaims, breaking out into a ridiculously toothy grin. Relief overcomes the businessman in ways he can't even begin to describe. Evidently, it doesn't take much to assuage Hiro's interests.

 

 

Hiro proclaims in a proud and drunken fervor, “My cat's name is Mochi.”

 

 

“That's nice, Hiro.”

 

 

Their rendezvous comes to an end when Alistair drops off a very drunken and giggly intern back to his home. Step by step, he leads Hiro to the front door, making sure the kid doesn't trip over himself. He isn't sure if he regrets this all or if he'll regret it even more tomorrow, Alistair thinks. He doesn't drive away until the light in Hiro's bedroom flicks on.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how many chapters I want this to be. Two or three? Not super long. Idk. The next few chapters will be nsfw.


End file.
